


if you have lost a right track then i'll lead you right back

by kittenmichael



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: A little bit of angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Intoxication, M/M, Vomiting, baby has never been this drunk before, isak is just a lil scared ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 17:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10881849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenmichael/pseuds/kittenmichael
Summary: “Even,” he whispers, as if it’s a secret Norway’s nights shouldn’t hear, “my tongue feels really weird.”Even chuckles at his boyfriend’s antics, before realising that he’s genuinely confused. “Kind of like cotton?”“Yes,” Isak says. “Like cotton.”or, Isak gets drunk





	if you have lost a right track then i'll lead you right back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rollercoastar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rollercoastar/gifts).



> i havent written anything in ages so pls be nice
> 
> this is some self indulgent fluff dedicated to jamie bc she is amazing

Even rubs his eyes with a groan. On the television screen, the end credits of Wolf of Wall street roll. They’re a painful reminder of how long he slept before he was rudely awoken. His phone, the culprit, lies on his chest, lit up with a notification.

It’s three AM, and Even is alone. He feels cold, despite the mountain of blankets that shield him from the freezing late night air. It’s something he’s not familiar with anymore. Not after cuddling up to Isak every night for the past three months. Usually when he wakes up at night, he finds his boyfriend fast asleep on his chest or wide awake blinking at the ceiling.

Tonight Even chose to be alone, though. Isak’s friends, or rather _their_ friends, had invited them to a house party a couple of blocks away. He doesn’t know the host, and neither does Isak, but Isak had perked up at the prospect of letting loose upon receiving the invitation.

It’s been a while since Isak has touched alcohol. Stubborn as he is, he has yet to break his promise of staying sober for Even, no matter how much Even reminds him that’s not necessary. It’s cute. Of course it is. But Even wants Isak to be young and enjoy himself. He knows for a fact that Isak loves his weed and his booze, even if he loves his boyfriend more. So tonight Even had decided to stay home under pretext of a head ache. He had brushed off all of Isak’s offers to stay home with him and told him to have fun. Even even texted Jonas, asking him to make sure Isak enjoys himself, and Sana, the only person he trusts to keep an eye on Isak.

His phone buzzes a second time, reminding him of the message in his inbox. It’s Sana.

_Can you come pick Isak up? I think he’s had more than enough fun for tonight_

Even shoots back a reply, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes while he searches for his keys at the same time.

The address Sana texts him is only a couple of blocks away, so he decides to walk. The cold air bites at his skin, chasing him through the empty streets of Oslo. His breathing paints the night sky, and he’s glad he grabbed an extra scarf for Isak.

When he arrives at the house, it’s packed with people. Lights illuminate all of the windows, drawing pretty silhouettes of dancing teenagers. Luckily, he doesn’t need to fight his way through the crowd. Isak is sitting on the curb, flocked by his usual squad, a joint clutched between his fingers.

“Even!” Isak yells, his eyes wide and red. “You’re here!”

Even can’t help but chuckle at Isak’s enthusiasm, catching Isak when he jumps up to greet his boyfriend and inevitably stumbles. His smile turns into a frown when he sees what Isak’s wearing. Or rather, what he isn’t wearing.

“Isak! Where is your coat? How long have you been sitting here?”

He doesn’t mean to scold him, but he can’t help himself. Even’s worried tone makes Isak pout. “I’m sorry,” he says, looking away. His shoulders drop, and his back is hunched. Even feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

“No, no, baby,” Even whispers, pressing Isak’s frozen body against him. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Jonas, Magnus, and Mahdi are looking at them. He knows Isak would have been embarrassed if he hadn’t been so out of it, but Even doesn’t let that keep him from fussing over his boyfriend. They’re probably just as gone as Isak, the result of a mix of weed and alcohol that promises a black-out, a hangover, or both.

“I think it’s time to go, though,” Even says, and Isak nods against his chest.

“Okay,” he says, but he doesn’t let Even go. His hand fists Even’s coat, the usually white skin nearly purple.

“Do you know where your jacket is, baby?” Even asks gently, his fingers combing Isak’s hair.

“Inside.”

Even rolls his eyes. Isak is drunker than he thought.

“Where in-“ Before Even can finish his sentence, he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around as best as he can with a clingy, intoxicated teenager glued to his body, and sees Sana. She’s smiling her _EvenAndIsak_ smile, the one she reserves just for them, and she’s holding Isak’s jacket.

“Don’t bother, Even,” she says, tossing him the garment.

“Thanks, you’re an actual angel.”

Sana grins until her face is scrunched up. “Just get him home safely, okay?”

Even salutes her, making a little bow that has Isak whining in his arms. She rolls her eyes at them, and makes her way back inside.

Once she’s gone, Even makes work of putting Isak’s jacket on.  It’s a struggle, because Isak won’t let him go, no matter how many times Even promises him he’ll feel better afterwards. After a few too many failed attempts, he successfully zips up Isak’s jacket and wraps his scarf around his neck.

Isak frowns. “Don’t zip it up, Even. Why’d you do that?”

“It’s a little too cold for fashion, alright? Besides, no one’s going to see us anyway.”

Isak grumbles a bit, but he makes no move to unzip his jacket, so Even leaves him be. He wraps his arm around Isak and waves goodbye to their friends, who’re finishing up the joint Isak was holding.

“Bye guys! See you on Monday!” Even smiles when Isak waves enthusiastically, shaking Even with the force of it.

“Come now, let’s get home before you get pneumonia.”

Isak shoves his hand in Even’s pocket, stealing his warmth and linking their fingers. He sways a bit as they walk, but Even steers him in the right direction. His eyes are bright and alive, shimmering in the cold light of Oslo’s lamp posts. Before they make it to the end of the street, Isak has started telling some story about a girl Jonas tried to make out with. He’s talking a mile a minute, words a little slurred and too enthusiastic for the late hour. After his fourth story, this one starring Magnus, Vilde, and their sex life, he falls silent.

“Even,” he whispers, as if it’s a secret Norway’s nights shouldn’t hear, “my tongue feels really weird.”

Even chuckles at his boyfriend’s antics, before realising that he’s genuinely confused. “Kind of like cotton?”

“Yes,” Isak says. “Like cotton.”

They drop the conversation after that, and Isak keeps his thoughts to himself. Even suspects he’s slowly falling asleep. It’s been a long week for Isak, stressful days followed by sleepless nights. Even wants to gather him up in his arms and make him sleep through the winter. Isak looks so sad when he’s tired. Sad or grumpy, and always impossibly small.

“We’re here,” Isak says. Even realises he’s right. “I’m exhausted. I want to sleep.”

Isak’s staring at him like Even knows all the answers. To what questions, Even doesn’t know. He doesn’t remove his hand from Even’s pocket, nor does he leave his embrace. They stand there for a while, _staring_ , until Even fishes his keys out of his jacket and remembers that Isak is dangerously cold.

Once they’re inside, their bed seems all Isak can think about. He kicks off his shoes and undresses in the middle of the hallway, not even stopping in the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Even takes his time, filling a glass with tap water for Isak to drink before he falls asleep. When he enters the bedroom, he finds Isak lying flat on his back on top of the sheets. His eyes are clenched shut.

“Even,” he whines pitifully. “Even, everything is spinning.”

“I know, baby. I think you drank a little too much tonight.”

Isak opens his eyes, looking particularly vulnerable. “I don’t like it,” he admits. “Please, make it stop.”

Even’s heart breaks. He knows how terrifying it can be to realise just how drunk you are. When the party has ended and there’s no music, there are no flashing lights to mask your dizziness. When you’ve had enough for the night and just want to sleep, but your head isn’t done yet.

“I’m sorry, Isak. I can’t do that.”

Isak looks at the ceiling, his hands clenching into fists. “Even, fuck, I-“

Even shoves their bin underneath Isak’s mouth just in time, hauling the boy into a sitting position so he doesn’t vomit all over himself. Once he’s done, Isak moves to wipe off his chin with the back of his hand, but Even stops him.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers, the words like a kick to the gut. Isak looks so vulnerable. His golden curls are glued to his forehead, his skin unnaturally pale. Tears rolls down his cheeks when he meets Even’s gaze at last. There’s vomit on his chin, his dirty lips half parted. Still, Even thinks he looks absolutely angelic.

“Don’t worry,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

Isak grabs his hand, a whimper following the action. “No, please,” he whines. “I’ll throw up again if I get up.”

Even nods and assures Isak he’ll be right back. The promise has Isak frowning, but he’s too weak to protest. When Even comes back, he’s holding a wash cloth, a little tub filled with water, and Isak’s pink tooth brush, curtesy of Eskild.

Even lets Isak rest his head in his hand, holding Isak’s chin while he wipes away the vomit with the wash cloth. Isak’s eyes are drifting shut, and Even strokes his hair, reminding him to stay awake just a little longer.

Once Isak’s clean, Even tries to brush his teeth. The whole ordeal has Isak vomiting a second time, the boy a boneless doll in Even’s grip.

“Okay, let’s not do that then,” Even jokes, even though he knows Isak is in no state to laugh. He presses a kiss on Isak’s forehead, before starting his clean up all over again. This time he’s a bit more careful, telling Isak to gurgle some mouthwash before asking him to drink the glass of water.

That’s how Even finds him after he’s brought the stuff back to the bathroom, sitting on their bed with the cold glass clutched in his purple hands. His head keeps bobbing forward, as if the blankets are trying to draw him in.

“It’s okay,” Even reminds him. “We can sleep now.”

It takes some time and a lot of caution, but Even manages to manoeuvre Isak onto his back. Even though it’s not Isak’s favourite position, he prefers curling up into a ball or being little spoon, it’ll have to do for tonight. Before Isak can fall asleep, Even tilts his head, so it rests on his shoulder.

“Good night, Issy,” Even whispers, “I love you.” Isak replies in mumbles.

Sometimes Even forgets how young Isak is. He can be so mature in their relationship, partially out of love and partially because he was forced to grow up quickly. But when Even finds him like this, taken aback by things like alcohol. Having a bad trip, scraping up his knees doing things Even advised him not to, drinking a little too much. He understands why Eskild still calls him ‘baby gay’, even though Isak often seems far from inexperienced.

Admittedly, Isak is a bit of a baby. What with his tantrums, pouty lip, and overall grumpiness. Sometimes, Even knows, Isak is just scared. Like now, when his head is spinning and his limbs feel too heavy.

“It’s okay,” Even whimpers. “Everything will feel better soon.”

*

It’s a lot warmer in the room when Even wakes up. Early sunrays bathe the room in light, heating up the blankets and the boys lying underneath. Isak is still fast asleep. Some of his drool dripped on Even’s shoulder, having escaped his parted lips.

Even amuses himself with staring for a while, until Isak wakes up. Like most mornings, he wakes up with groan. Daytime always comes too soon for Isak, no matter how late they sleep in. Today, though, he has a reason to complain.

“Even,” he whimpers, his hand searching for Even’s. “Hurts.”

Even’s fingers comb Isak’s curls, his nails scratching his scalp. The sensation calms Isak, and his frown disappears.

“I know, baby. I got you some painkillers, though. They’ll make you feel better.”

Isak nods meekly, careful not to move too much in fear of upsetting his sensitive stomach. Even helps him up, placing his hands underneath Isak’s armpits to hoist him into a sitting position. The manhandling makes Isak blush.

Next up is the second glass of water Even had carried over the night before. He fishes some painkillers out of their drawer, dropping them into Isak’s open hand and entrusting him the water.

Isak gulps greedily. Even’s hand caresses his cheek while he drinks, and Isak leans in to the touch.

“I feel gross.” His voice is quite hoarse, damaged by a night of yelling silly jokes and profanities. “I think I’d like a shower.”

Despite his obvious wish, Isak stays seated. He lays his head on Even’s shoulder, nuzzling his nose where Even’s neck meets his chest. The skin is warm there; a sharp contrast with Isak’s cold nose. The feeling sends shivers down Even’s spine.

“You know you did nothing wrong, right?” Even asks.

He can always tell when Isak is overthinking things. His body gets rigid, his voice sounds absent. When Isak speaks again, he almost looks shy.

“Are you sure?” He asks. “You, uh, you don’t think any less of me?”

Even wants to roll his eyes at the question, bombard Isak with his wildest tales of black-outs and vomiting at the side of the road. Instead, he kisses Isak. “Never,” he whispers against his lips. “You made a mistake, okay? It’s been ages since you’ve last drunk alcohol. It can be hard to know where your limit lies.”

Isak nods, his nose pressed against Even’s. Even wishes he would look him in the eye. There’s silence. He wraps his arms around Isak, holding him against his chest. The boy feels small in his embrace.

“Okay,” Isak says eventually. “I guess I believe you.”

It’s not the self-confident answer Even had dreamed of, but it’s more than he expected. That’s alright, he reminds himself when Isak makes himself comfortable on Even’s lap. His eyes are drooping again, every thought of washing up postponed. His fist is curled around Even’s shirt, and his lips are pressed against the exposed skin of Even’s chest.

It’s alright, Even thinks, because there’s still a lot Isak has to learn.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (if you ever threw up bc u drank too much alcohol that's totally fine and ur still amazing soft and pure ok)


End file.
